


Book 2: The Long Game

by kneehighintheocean



Series: A Happy Ending for Ahsoka Tano [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Asexual Character, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexuality, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, Gray Jedi, Lesbian Ahsoka Tano, POV Alternating, Post-Book: Ahsoka, Post-Order 66, Post-Star Wars: The Clone Wars, References to Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008), Strong Female Characters, The Force
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24674968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kneehighintheocean/pseuds/kneehighintheocean
Summary: Ahsoka Tano continues to fight the Empire in the Rebel Alliance with her girlfriend and fellow spy, Ilaria Moon. They knew from the beginning that their relationship would not be easy, them being two non-Imperial Force users in a galaxy dominated by the Empire, and yet it soon becomes apparent that they will face more trials together than they could have possibly dreamt of.Dondavi has long given up on much within the Empire's galaxy. The only thing he has not given up was his search for his love, Siraei Moon. He has traveled to the far ends of the galaxy trying to find her, and he begins to grow hopeless of ever finding her when he finally decides to do something he had promised Siraei he would never do: reach out to her daughter for help.Tahnsu is a pirate, and a good one, at that. At seventeen years old, he has solidified his spot among a band of thieves, feeling the closest to having a home ever since he had left his parents. He was drifting on an already-rough ship, and then, he met a storm...
Series: A Happy Ending for Ahsoka Tano [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776616
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to post this work chapter-by-chapter, but have decided to post multiple chapters at once, if not the entire work. Because of this, I can't say when exactly this work will be completed, but I hope it will be by the end of July. Thank you for reading!

“Why do I let you drag me to these things?”

“Because you love me, grumpy pants.”

“This is an unnecessary risk.”

“If there’s ever a reason to take an unnecessary risk, it’s our anniversary.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes, and Ilaria could see her resisting the urge to smile.

They danced slowly in the divine hall, with its polished stone floors and great pillars. Mirrors lined the walls, and other couples of varying species twirled slowly to the soft music, their whispered conversations ranging from flirting to business talk. The party, after all, was being thrown for the attendees of a black-market antiques auction, which had wrapped up an hour before. It was the sort of event that Ilaria had grown used to attending, and she was perfectly at ease in the crowd, perfectly capable of altering the Force around them so that no one looked at them twice.

In fact, the crowd and servants hardly seemed to notice Ahsoka and Ilaria at all.

“Is it our anniversary?” Ahsoka asked innocently. She wore a fine dress in a deep, dark red, and her normal headpiece had been traded out for one of gold. Both were things Ilaria had purchased for her. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“How rude. I go through all of this effort to make our three-year anniversary wonderful, and you don’t even remember it? I guess this means I should cancel the rest of our plans…”

“The rest of our plans?”

“Oh, you know, late dinner at the nicest restaurant in town, a private cabin on a white sand beach—that sort of thing.”

Ahsoka finally smiled. “Now those sound too good to waste.”

“I’m glad you think so. But alas, they were meant for our anniversary, and if you can’t seem to remember that today is our anniversary…”

Ahsoka laughed, her blue eyes twinkling. “Three standard years. It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long.”

“Three standard years isn’t that long at all,” said Ilaria, sending Ahsoka off in a gentle twirl before pulling her back once more. “Especially when I’m spending them with you.”

“You really know how to flatter a girl, don’t you?”

Step forwards, backwards, and now it was Ilaria’s turn to twirl. She delighted in how seamlessly they danced together, as if they had been doing it for years. Turns out, years of constant combat training together translated to dance pretty well.

“Is it flattery when it’s the truth?”

Ahsoka tilted her head slightly. “I suppose that depends on your perspective.”

“Now you sound like me.”

“Then we have definitely been spending too much time together.”

Ilaria laughed, and they continued to dance. She was just happy that she managed to drag Ahsoka away with her for a little bit.  
With Ilaria’s steadily building wealth, autonomy, and duties as a spy, her life had quickly become less and less about staying on a Rebel base or managing other fighters. Nowadays, she spent most of her time attending parties, black-market auctions, and flitting around the edges of the rich and powerful under a plethora of disguises and aliases. She also spent a good deal of time in allies, seedy cantinas, and shanty towns, but she hardly preferred those over nice dinners and polished floors. All of her time went into managing her own contacts and projects. In all reality, the only time she ever really visited any Rebel bases anymore was to deliver information and supplies, or see Ahsoka.

It tended to get lonely. Most of the time, her only companions were her two droids: Cheap, her R2 unit, and Kayfour, her recently purchased protocol droid. Salt, her vulptice, also accompanied her, which was sometimes a hassle as Ilaria had to be careful as to who saw the crystalline fox, in case they made the connection to Crait. She and Ahsoka holo’ed each other as often as they could, but still, it wasn’t the same.

Ilaria missed the days they had lived together in the freighter on Crait. Back then, she had taken it for granted. Often when she laid in bed alone, she thought about those days when they would sleep on mats on the floor just so there was enough room for them to be together. Back when it had been them and the vulptice pups and it was so much easier to go to bed wrapped in each other’s arms and warm blankets.

Once, Ilaria had told Ahsoka that if they were going to be together, they would have to accept the insanity of their situation. She now felt that she was only beginning to understand what that implied.

They sat on the beach in front of their rented cabin, watching the twin suns rise beyond the asteroid belt that rimmed the planet. Ahsoka had traded in her red dress for a more comfortable grey tunic, and Ilaria had followed her lead, donning a similar loose fabric, except in white. They were the only current occupants of the tiny island, surrounded by a turquoise sea tinged light purple, and Ahsoka had to admit that the rest of the galaxy felt as if it were far, far away.

It was a colossal feeling of relief, to feel as if she were so far from the galaxy’s troubles. A tiny part of her felt a twinge of guilt at how relieved she was to be isolated, away from the constant hum and drum of reports and holos and bad news. There was always more bad news, and the situation with the Empire only seemed to be worsening. It seemed as if her expertise in war and espionage was always in demand, and steadily growing more so.

“Stop,” said Ilaria, giving her a sideways glance. “That’s the exact reason why you need to be here. It’s not healthy to constantly be wrapped up in war. We are still mortal, and the Force doesn’t protect us from the effects of it.”

Ahsoka didn’t mind Ilaria reading her thoughts from time to time, and she only seemed to ever do it when Ahsoka needed it the most. If there were a time when she didn’t want Ilaria reading her thoughts, all she had to do was think it, and Ilaria would back off. However, it was times like this when Ahsoka appreciated it.

She dug her hand in the soft sand beside her and produced a tiny white shell, polished from erosion. “I was hoping that this war would end soon.”

“I know.” Ilaria stifled a yawn. “To be honest, I don’t think it will end relatively soon. Business and power are still blooming for the Empire, and there are still many that support it.”

Ahsoka frowned. “What are you thinking?”

Ilaria shrugged, her expression darkening. “Nothing solid, yet. Well, nothing beyond the idea that we should start playing the long game, but we’ve already started that, haven’t we?”

“ _You_ have started playing the long game,” said Ahsoka. She motioned around her, and back at the cabin, where her recently purchased protocol droid, Kayfour, waited. “That’s what all of this is. The autonomy, the money. You wouldn’t have bothered with it unless you thought it was going to be a long game.”

“Of course.”

Even as they spoke, the native sea creatures were depositing gold, jewels, and electronics in the shallows pools where the surf met the beach before them. It was amazing what the wealthy could lose in the ocean, and it was amazing at how easy it was for a telepath of Ilaria’s skills to convince the native wildlife to bring it back to shore. Convincing the wildlife to bring her lost treasures, or tell her where they were, was half the reason Ilaria was able to grow her wealth so quickly. At that point, all she had to do was collect the treasure and sell it, and for someone with as many black market connections as she did, that was easy work.

“The question is, _how_ do we play the long game?”

“Carefully, and among many different paths,” said Ilaria. She yawned again. “Perhaps now isn’t the time to talk about it.”

Ahsoka quickly did the mental math and realized that they had been awake for roughly 23 standard hours. She got to her feet, brushing the sand from her clothes and offering a hand up as well. “We should go to bed.”

“Sleep is for the weak,” said Ilaria, accepting the hand up.

“Yeah, yeah.” Ahsoka took her by the hand and led the way down the sand path to the cabin, between dunes and grasses that shifted in the gentle breeze. “You get grumpy when you don’t get your beauty sleep.”

“Are you saying that I need sleep to be beautiful?”

“Yes, or else you look like a drowned womp rat.”

“Wow, thanks. Love you too, Ash.”

“You know I’m joking.”

“It still stings.”

Ahsoka laughed, pushing open the door and leading the way to the bedroom. “Stop being dramatic.”

“I could never,” sighed Ilaria, flopping onto the plush bed. With a gentle tug from the Force, she pulled Ahsoka onto the bed with her, giggling and kissing her deeply. “I’m willing to look like a womp rat for a little longer if you can put up with it.”

“It’s a good thing it’s dark in here.”

“Ahsoka!”

Before Ilaria could say anything more, Ahsoka laughed with delight and kissed her. “Ilaria Moon, I love you.”

“I love you, too, Ash.”

Even Ahsoka had to admit that protocol droids had a spectacular way of ruining the mood. She was only half-covered by the bedsheets, wrapped in Ilaria’s arms, when the clinking of metal awoke her. Her first half-asleep thought was: _Droids_.

She shot up, calling one of her lightsabers to her hand and activating the humming white blade of energy, the tip of it hovering centimeters from Kayfour’s chest.

“Oh, dear,” said the droid. Quite frankly, it sounded sarcastic more so than concerned.

“Stars!” Ilaria exclaimed at the same time, her eyes wide as she took in the scene. “Ash, it’s fine. Put the lightsaber down.”

Coming to her senses, Ahsoka did as Ilaria said, and the energy blade retracted.

“What is it, Kayfour?” Ilaria growled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Waking Ilaria up was always a good way to get a tongue-lashing.

Ahsoka checked the chrono on the bedside table and realized they had only been sleeping for a few hours.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” said Kayfour, bowing slightly, “There has been a transmission for you.”

Judging from Ilaria’s expression she was probably thinking about melting down the droid for scrap metal. “Is it an urgent transmission?”

“You once said that all transmissions have the possibility of being urgent.”

“Kayfour you have five seconds before I power you down.”

“The transmission is from Xeroianjj.”

Ahsoka and Ilaria exchanged a glance, and Ahsoka saw her concern reflected in Ilaria’s gaze. Their mutual friend, Tennille, was their current spy at the planets only town, and she never made abnormal or unscheduled transmissions.

“Well, what is it then?”

“I’m sorry, I thought you were shutting me down?”

“Kayfour!”

“Very well.” Kayfour shuffled over and held out his hand, and a miniature holo of the Fulcrum symbol – a stylized version of Ahsoka’s own face markings—appeared, slowly rotating in the droid’s grey palm. Then, the scrambled voice, “ _Swamp Rat, someone new has arrived in town. They were going around asking about…about your mother. He appears to be sticking around for a little while, although I don’t know how long. I will keep an eye on him. Let me know what you would like to do. Fulcrum out_.”

The symbol blinked out.

Kayfour asked, “Would you like me to send a reply?”

“No,” said Ilaria, who had been staring at the wall, her expression blank with thought. “No, give me time to think about it. Is there anything else?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Then leave us.”

The droid shuffled away, and Ilaria didn’t move for a long while.

Over the past few years, they had spent a fair amount of their spare time trying to track down Ilaria’s mother, Siraei. However, the trail had gone cold soon enough. Siraei had been sold off of Xeroianjj to the CEO of a holozine company, and then he sold her to an executive in a blaster manufacturing company, but the transport had been attacked by unknown pirates. From the pirates, the trail had gone cold. Some said she had been sold, others said that she escaped, and some said that she had perished.

Ilaria had refused the latter to be true, saying that if it was, the Force-ghost of her mother would have come to her.

Ahsoka was unsure of what to think. As they had learned, some ghosts were more willing to come forward to Ilaria than others, and they all seemed to have their reasons.

“It’s a trap,” Ilaria said at last, tearing her gaze from the wall. “It has to be.”

“It could be,” Ahsoka agreed. “Or maybe it’s someone that knew your mother. It could be another former slave, someone she met after she left Xeroianjj.”

“It’s dangerous,” Ilaria said. “I don’t need people going around asking about me, or any of my relatives. Trap or not, it needs to be addressed. The sooner people forget my name, the better.”

Ahsoka felt a pang. She realized that she was still holding her lightsaber, and setting it beside her, reached for Ilaria’s shoulder. “It will be okay. You need to sleep. You can’t think clearly when you’re not well-rested.”

Ilaria sighed. “You’re right.” Her gaze went to the lightsaber, and she lifted her hand. The hilt levitated from the bed and to the bedside table. “Don’t want to accidentally roll over on that.”

“No,” Ahsoka agreed, edging back into comfort of the sheets and pulling Ilaria with her. “A good old accidental amputation is the last thing we need.”

“It’s a good _ol’_ , not good _old_ , Ash. Geez, get some culture.”

Ahsoka laughed, kissing Ilaria on the cheek. “I _was_ raised on Coruscant, you know. I think I know plenty about culture.”

“Sure, you do.”

“You’re impossible.”

“So are you. That’s half the reason I love you.”

“Oh, really? What’s the other half?”

“The way you roll your eyes when people irritate you. You have the best eye roll I’ve ever seen. It’s honestly impressive.”

“Thanks, I think.”

Ilaria yawned, burying her face in Ahsoka’s neck. “You’re welcome.”


	2. Chapter 2

Xeroianjj had hardly changed in the almost four years since Ilaria had first left.

She piloted her ship, a modified freighter that had come with the name the Hangover, into the atmosphere cautiously, coming in far from where the Resort was, and piloting low over the daggergrass marshes. Kayfour sat in the co-pilots chair, a fact that seemed to irritate Cheap, and Ilaria constantly had to remind the astromech that he was physically incapable of “sitting” like a human. Not that Kayfour was particularly helpful in the copilot’s chair, when it came down to it. Salt was perched in the navigators chair, otherwise known as her usual chair.

Ilaria took over the controls as they approached the forest, angling upwards just high enough to avoid the knee-roots of the livimmae trees. She wove through the trees with a speed and familiarity that would have been difficult even for another Force user. Only someone who had been flying through the impossibly wide and towering trees for years could have managed the feat without having their ship ripped apart.

Ahead, farther into the trees than any dared, a landing platform built of thick livimmae branches that had been halved to form a flat surface. Ilaria, with the help of the yarkiokkajj and the Force, had collected the fallen branches, which were dried and hardened by the sun and salt of the marshes. The platform was surprisingly steady, and as Ilaria shut down the ship, she admired her handy work.

“Ready, Salt?” Ilaria asked, getting up and grabbing her backpack.

The vulptice let out a yip and jumped down, her crystalline coat letting out a series of rhythmic chimes as she trotted towards the ramp.

“Are you sure this is wise?” asked Kayfour, precariously getting up from the copilot’s seat. Ilaria thought that it was a miracle protocol droids got anywhere. “This may very well be a trap.”

“I’m sure it is,” said Ilaria, pulling on her grey cloak. “And what’s the best way to find a trap?”

The droid hesitated. “To be the one that makes it?”

Ilaria smiled, appreciating its computational skills. “A good guess, but are you really finding it if you’re the one that made it? No, the best way to _find_ a trap is to trip it.”

Salt was already waiting for her at the bottom of the ramp, watching the trees expectantly. She had only been to Xeroianjj a handful of times, as Ilaria didn’t make it much of a habit to return home. But, when she did, Salt inevitably came with her, which involved some yarkiokkajj flying. Surprisingly, the vulptice quite enjoyed flying.

Sure enough, there was a humming in the air, and Braetis dropped out of the canopy above them, his massive wings buffeting them with air, and his claws digging into the creaking wood of the platform as he landed. His triangular head snaked down, and he sniffed Salt before brushing hot breath across Ilaria’s face.

“Have you gained weight?” she asked, stroking his chin.

He let out a growl and snapped playfully at her hair. _Watch it_.

She climbed onto Braetis’ back, carefully setting Salt in front of her, thankful that her clothes and gloves were thick enough to protect her from the vulptice’s spiked coat. And then, they were off, flying through the trees and angling not in the direction of the Resort, but in the direction of the yarkiokkajj nest, where her hut still stood.

She left Salt at the nesting tree with the yarkiokkajj—there was nothing like a crystalline fox to attract attention, after all, and attention was the last thing Ilaria needed.

She ran across the tree roots, her plastoid armor hidden by the peasant clothes she wore. A scarf hid her all-too-easily recognizable hair and face, leaving only her eyes exposed. She ran across the knee-roots of the livimmae trees as easily as ever, and yet, the sensation was clearly different.

It was one thing to be home when home was the only place she had ever been, it was another thing entirely to be home when she had spent the last couple of years tromping around the galaxy.

Tennille stoked the little fire in the living room carefully, kneeling on the woven carpets, before carefully suspending the metal kettle over the flames.  


Ilaria would be there soon.

The home was one of the few two-story homes in Resort Town, and it’s previous occupants had been Ilaria and her adoptive grandmother, Else.

Tennille stared into the coals at the bottom of the fire as she remembered the chaos that ensued after Ilaria’s disappearance. The Imperials, upon learning about Else’s relationship with Ilaria, had taken the old woman into custody and interrogated her for days. When they finally released her, she was bruised and bloodied and only half alive. Tennille, along with some of the others, had brought her home and tended to her until she passed two days later.

Before she had passed, Else left her home to Tennille, saying that she would soon ‘need the space,’ and two weeks later, Tennille had discovered that she was with child.

That had changed everything for Tennille.

Alva’s father had been an Imperial officer than only stayed at the Resort for the week, and in return, Alva had come into Tennille’s life forever. Alva was half-human, with the thick black hair of her father, and the swirling togruta skin pattern of her mother. She was just under three standard years old, and she was the reason Tennille changed her life, the reason she became a spy for the Rebellion: Tennille wanted to leave a better world for her daughter.

There was a soft knock at the door, and Tennille scrambled to her feet and cracked it open just long enough for Ilaria to slip inside. Once inside, she removed the scarf that covered her face and head, and Tennille couldn’t help but notice for the millionth time how much more mature her friend looked.

They had both grown much in the last few years.

They embraced in a hug.

“It’s good to see you,” Ilaria said warmly as they parted. “How’s Alva?”

“Wild,” laughed Tennille, moving to the kitchen and retrieving two clay cups of herbs. “She’s growing so quickly. I can hardly keep up. She’s sleeping upstairs in her room.”

“Xeroianjj seems to have that effect on its children,” said Ilaria, pulling the kettle from the fire and filling the two cups with the steaming water. “I’m sure she’ll mellow with age.”

“As you have?”

“Believe it or not, I _have_ mellowed with age,” said Ilaria, taking a seat on one of the woven chairs. “You should have seen me in my early teenage years.”

Tennille sat as well. “I’m kind of happy that I didn’t.”

Ilaria laughed. “Trust me, so am I.”

“I’m glad you could come so quickly,” said Tennille. Her thoughts were on the strange man that had come to town, as they had been ever since she had first seen him in the Town. “The man in question is an older human male with tanned skin and white hair. He goes by the name of _Dondavi_. At first, I thought he was looking for you, because he kept asking people for someone by the name of ‘Moon,’ but he said he was looking for Siraei Moon.”

“My mother,” said Ilaria darkly, sipping her tea pensively. “I wonder why he would think that she is here.”

Tennille had never met Ilaria’s mother—she had been sold before Tennille had arrived at the Resort. She briefly wondered what the woman was like, especially to have raised someone as…different as Ilaria.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Perhaps he met her after she left Xeroianjj.”

“Likely,” said Ilaria, her expression hardly lightening. In fact, her frown only seemed to grow.

“Is something wrong?” Tennille had expected for Ilaria to be more enthused about a possible lead on the whereabouts of her mother.

“Something is always wrong,” Ilaria said, and then she shook her head. “I’m wary. This could very well be a trap.”

“A trap for you?”

“Yes.” Ilaria shifted her weight, fixing a piercing stare on Tennille. Her dark eyes seemed to drink in the little fire in the corner. “I have not made many friends in the last few years. Although, I have been very careful. It is…troubling that someone may have been able to not only track me here, but lure me here by claiming to know my mother.”

“It’s possible that –”

Ilaria suddenly froze, and held a finger to her lips, cocking her head slightly. She whispered, so softly even Tennille struggled to hear, “Someone’s coming!”

Moving quicker than Tennille could have anticipated, she leapt lightly to her feet, throwing a blanket over where she had been sitting and darting into the adjacent bedroom, taking her tea cup with her.

There was a knock on the door.

Quickly composing herself, Tennille stood and made her way to the door, opening it only a sliver to see the kind, aging face of none other than Dondavi looking down at her.

He was a tall man, but thin and wiry.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said. His grey eyes were like metal. “I was wondering if I could ask you a few more questions about your old friend, Ilaria Moon.”

Tennille hesitated, thinking of Alva sleeping upstairs, and Ilaria hiding in the room over. She couldn’t very well turn him away—that would only raise his suspicions. “Of course,” she said, her voice quiet, “But my daughter is sleeping, so we will have to be quiet.”

He nodded, stepping through the doorway as she let him in. He walked with a polished metal walking stick, even though he appeared to not have a limp. “Your home is very nice.”

“Thank you.” Tennille retrieved a teacup for him and poured him a steaming cup, taking her seat once more as Dondavi took one as well, leaning his cane against the edge of his chair. “How may I help you?”

“You said that your friend disappeared into the forest,” he said, his voice gravel-like. “Do you think there is a chance she survived?”

Tennille frowned, studying the leaves floating in her teacup. “I don’t think anyone could survive in that forest alone.”

He leaned forward, his eyes shining. “But she wasn’t alone, was she? Two others disappeared with her that day, didn’t they? Two newcomers: a togruta and a human. She was close friends with them.”

 _He’s really done his research_. Tennille suddenly understood why Ilaria was so worried about this man setting a trap for her.

“Yes,” she said. “But Suellen disappeared at the same time as Ilaria, and Efran a day later. We…we think that Suellen and Ilaria may have fled for the forest, and when they didn’t return, Efran went looking for them.”

“But you don’t think they survived.”

“No,” she said firmly. “I think that Suellen and Ilaria were in love, and that they would rather die in the forest, drown or starve or get eaten by yarkiokkajj, rather than be separated. And I think that Efran was still enough in love with Suellen to try chasing after them.”

It was Dondavi’s turn to frown. “I see.”

“Can I ask why finding the Moons is so important to you?”

He smiled sadly. “I met Siraei a few standard years ago. I was a poor man, and she was a slave, but I fell in love with her. She was sold, though, and ever since, I’ve been trying to find her again. She told me about living on Xeroianjj, and about her daughter. I was hoping that maybe she came home, or that maybe if I found her daughter, Ilaria, she could help me find Siraei once more. Siraei told me her daughter was one of the smartest people she knew.”

“I’m sorry,” said Tennille, and she meant it. “I wish I could help you more. I…I miss her, you know. Things haven’t been the same without Ilaria here.”

“It can be hard, losing those we care about,” said Dondavi sagely. “But we cannot give up hope that we will one day see them again.” He set down his teacup on the side table. “Thank you for the tea, and the help. I won’t keep you any longer.”

With that, he let himself out.

A full three minutes went by before Ilaria emerged from her hiding place, her scarf once more pulled over her hair and face.

“What do you think?” Tennille asked.

“I think I need to follow him,” said Ilaria. One of her hands was hidden in the folds of her cloak, clutching something unseen at her belt. “Thank you, Tennille. I will be in touch.”

With that, she slipped out of the door as well, leaving Tennille alone in her living room.

Tennille looked after them for a moment, before she climbed upstairs, and lying down beside Alva’s slumbering form and pulling her daughter close. It was all for her. She wanted to be someone that her daughter could be proud of one day.


	3. Chapter 3

Ilaria followed Dondavi at a distance, relying on the Force to keep track of him more than her eyesight. Her heart was pounding, and she knew that soon the sun would be beginning to rise. Strange, how quickly time could go.

Dondavi made his way to the outskirts of town, stopping where the artificial bank dropped to the water and unhooking a tied wooden canoe from the edge—the kind of canoe that the natives only still used. Even though the light of Xeroianjj’s multiple moons was bright, it still wasn’t quite bright enough for a human to see properly without aid. And yet, Dondavi did not fumble once as he untied the canoe and pushed it off into the water, grabbing the paddle and heading into the forest with single minded determination.

 _What an idiot_ , thought Ilaria sourly as she watched the shadows of the trunks swallow him. In the forest especially, she didn’t need her eyes to keep track of him. Among the livimmae trees, he might as well had been an ant crawling across her palm.

“Your thoughts are sticking in the past like mud,” said Else.

Ilaria looked sideways at the ghost of her adoptive grandmother. “I don’t recall summoning you here.”

“You don’t have to summon me for me to be here for you.”

“Don’t you see the irony in you, a literal personification of my past, chiding me for my thoughts dwelling on the past?”

Else smiled. “You never were one to let irony escape your notice. What do you think of Dondavi?”

Ilaria frowned, wondering if Else was just playing with her. She always wondered about how much Force ghosts actually knew about the going-ons of the world—if they were omnipotent, or if they were limited by their mortal souls. She suspected it was a little bit of both, if not with slightly more of the latter. “He knows enough to be dangerous. He wouldn’t venture into the forest unless he was sure there was a chance that I could survive it, and that he can survive it as well. It means that he knows—or suspects—that I am a Force user, and he is likely one as well.”

“Do you think your mother told him?”

“My mother has never had issues keeping secrets. No, I don’t think she told him.”

“You have grown suspicious since you have left home.”

“Do you mean _paranoid_?” Ilaria shook her head. “I have good reason to be paranoid. If someone finds me, there’s the risk that they find Ash as well.”

“That’s what it all comes back to, doesn’t it?”

“What?”

“Protecting those you love.”

“Do you not approve?” Ilaria glared at the ghost. “Especially after what happened to you. Can you blame me?”

“No,” said Else sadly. She peered over her glasses, which begged the question of why a ghost needed glasses, if not to only look over them for dramatic effect. “I think it is a very admirable thing to do.”

Ilaria could almost hear the ghost of Luminara saying, _But you should not protect them above all else. The greater good should come first._

Over the past few years, Ilaria had experienced many more lectures from the once-thought gone than she quite frankly cared for. Enough to give her more than a handful of headaches, anyways. She often wondered if the ghosts grew bored, and simply lectured her for the sake of having something to do.

“I have to go,” she said. The sky was beginning to grey—the sun was going to make its appearance soon. She strode to the edge of the artificially packed earth that made the base for Resort Town, and leapt from the bank to the closest knee roots. She moved quickly until she was out of sight of the town, and then slowed to the point where she went from root to root between the towering trunks at an almost leisurely pace.

Dondavi was moving slowly in his canoe. Frustratingly slowly.

And yet she didn’t want to speak to him just yet.

Pulling a grappling hook line from her belt, she shot it up to the nearest branch high above her head, climbing the nearby livimmae tree like a cliff face until she was high above the forest’s watery floor. There, she bounded among the branches, moving too lightly to disturb the canopy, until she was directly above Dondavi as he slowly paddled.

She produced her electrobinoculars from her backpack and observed. His head moved on a slow swivel, looking through the livimmae trunks with calm awareness. On his lap rested a round-hilted lightsaber, ready to be drawn at any moment.

What was the best way to find a trap?

To trip it.

Ilaria dropped from the branches, using the Force to ease her fall, and she landed adopt that livimmae roots directly behind Dondavi’s canoe, giving her a roughly fifteen-meter height advantage over the stranger.

He whirled, his hand going to his lightsaber and activating the humming green beam of energy as he faced her, his eyes narrowed determinedly. He was not the helpless old man he portrayed himself to be.

“You are trespassing,” Ilaria said coldly. “Leave or die.”

Dondavi studied her closely, squinting, and she felt him reaching out in the Force in vain, trying to detect her, to read her. Of course, it was impossible.

“Ilaria?” he whispered hoarsely, as if he could hardly believe it. “Ilaria Moon?”

“She’s dead. Now leave.”

“No,” said Dondavi, withdrawing his lightsaber blade with obvious distress. “She can’t be. Without her…without her there’s no hope.”

Ilaria thought of reading his mind, but decided against it. As a Force user, the odds of him detecting her presence in his thoughts were high. However, his distress seemed genuine. “No hope of what?”

“Of finding her mother, Siraei.”

“This Siraei must be valuable, if a Jedi seeks her.”

Dondavi looked at the lightsaber hilt in his hand as if he were seeing it for the first time. “I am no longer a Jedi. Now, I am just a man looking for the woman he loves. Are you sure that Ilaria is dead? Did you know her?”

“You are a fool,” Ilaria hissed, crouching low. “A former Jedi should know the danger of names, the power they can have. It is a miracle that you have survived this long.”

Her words had the intended effect, and Dondavi bristled. “Who are you to judge me?”

Ilaria extended a hand towards the canoe, and the water around it crackled and lightened as it froze over, turning into ice and effectively trapping the canoe. Using the Force to freeze water was a rather simple matter—it only required the slowing of molecules. She dropped from her knee root and onto the newly formed ice platform, simultaneously drawing her slugthrower and aiming it at Dondavi’s head. Unlike a blaster, the slugthrower shot metal projectiles, which were not nearly as easily deflected as a blaster bolt. Try to deflect a metal slug with a lightsaber, and you were still going to get hot, splintered metal shards lodged into your body. An old trick she learned from the studying Mandalorians.

“Who are you to come into my forest, asking about those long gone?”

His eyes took in the metal barrel of the slugthrower, and Ilaria knew he sensed the danger it carried. He stared into her eyes, the only part of her face not hidden, and his expression morphed into desperate joy. “You _are_ Ilaria,” he breathed, tears coming to his eyes. “Your mother told me that you were capable of using the Force but I never imagined it would be something like this.” He motioned to the ice she stood on. “I used to be known as Fillip Lou, but I have not gone by that name since the rise of the Empire. I now go by Dondavi, and I care more about your mother than anything else in the galaxy. Please, help me find her.”

Ahsoka was in hyperspace, on her way to the Dantooine, when she received the live transmission request from Ilaria. Rather surprised to already be hearing from her again, she answered, and a moment later was looking at a hologram of her girlfriend slouched in the pilots seat of her ship. Her expression was peevish, and she was picking at her bottom lip.

“I take it you found something?” Ahsoka asked.

“Oh, yes,” said Ilaria. “ _Something_ indeed. _Apparently_ , the man looking for my mother is a former Jedi, Fillip Lou, except now he goes by the name of Dondavi. He says that he is in love with my mother and wants my help to find her. Do you know him?” 

Ahsoka racked her brain, digesting the information as quickly as she could. Another Jedi that survived. This could be huge. And yet, Ilaria’s visage was enough to keep her enthusiasm muted. “Is he human?”

“Yeah. Upper end of middle-aged. Brown eyes, tan skin. Green lightsaber.”

She frowned. “I don’t recall, but then and again, there used to be ten thousand Jedi. It is very well possible that I never met him. Do you think he’s telling the truth?”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” said Ilaria. She was _sour._ “He doesn’t seem like the most accurate blaster in the galaxy. I highly doubt he was at your level of importance during The Clone Wars. And yes, I think he is telling the truth.”

“He managed to find you, so he can’t be _that_ stupid.”

Ilaria glared. “I still don’t like this. It doesn’t make sense. I can’t imagine my mother telling anyone about my Force abilities.”

“If she knew he was a Jedi, she may have felt like it was safe to tell him.”

“Maybe.”

“What are you going to do? And where is he?”

“Unconscious and locked in the spare bunkroom. Cheap is keeping an eye on him. And, here’s the thing, he claims to have figured out which band of pirates hit the transport my mother was on. And I think he’s telling the truth.”

That was something in itself. Ilaria wasn’t an easy person to lie to, and if this Dondavi had a serious lead on her mother’s whereabouts…

Ahsoka leaned forward. “Do you want help?”  


“Not yet.” Ilaria’s expression softened slightly. “I don’t want him to know about you, or my involvement with the Rebellion quite yet. I don’t trust him enough for that.”

“If you say so,” said Ahsoka, slightly disappointed, although she had to admit that it was the right decision for more than just keeping her existence a secret from this Dondavi. It wasn’t like she could drop everything she was doing for the Rebellion and run off on some adventure with Ilaria. Nope, there were missions to be run, spies to be recruited, and so on. “Keep me updated, okay?”

Ilaria smiled. “Since when don’t I? And speaking of, it looks like Dondavi and I are heading for Bilbousa, Nal Hutta.”

Ahsoka wrinkled her nose. Nal Hutta was the homeworld of the hutts. It was a greasy swamp planet that was a haven for criminals, and Bilbousa was the capital. “Gross. Are you sure that you don’t want an extra hand?”

“ _Want_ and _need_ are two different things,” said Ilaria smartly. She glanced behind her at something Ahsoka couldn’t see, and added, “I’ve got to go. It looks like my guest is waking up. I’ll talk to you soon. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

The transmission ended, and Ahsoka stared at the blue and white hyperspace tunnel before her thoughtfully. She wasn’t worried about Ilaria—she could handle herself, even in a slime-ridden crime world the likes of Nal Hutta.

Ahsoka found her thoughts on the family she was going to meet on Dantooine. They were a human family, two parents and three children, and they had recently come to find that their youngest child was Force sensitive, or at least they suspected that he was. Fearing the implications of the Empire, they had reached out to the Rebellion for sanctuary.

But was there really any place truly safe in the galaxy for them? Poor people, with nowhere else to go. Those who didn’t know how to live their lives in hiding, to constantly be on the run from the Empire.

There were even rumors of parents abandoning their Force sensitive children, or even more commonly, turning them over to the Empire. Rumors of Force sensitive children being hunted down.

Were they really rumors when Ahsoka knew they were true?

Palpatine was, if anything, a master politician, and he had successfully created a galaxy where some were willing to forgo their own children out of fear. He had created a galaxy where the Jedi were evil, the Force was not something to be trusted, and the populous should fear the Empire above all else, even family.

She wondered how more many families and children she would have to find sanctuary for, how many more she would have to teach to hide themselves, to live in secret and suppress who they really were.


	4. Chapter 4

Sure, Xeroianjj was considered a “swamp world.” Ilaria preferred to think of it as a marsh world, but most of the galaxy would disagree with her. However, when she stepped off of the Hangover and into the pungent shipyard of Nal Hutta, she was so affronted by the smell that she considered having Xeroianjj reclassified as a marsh planet just so that it wouldn’t be considered anywhere near the same class of planet as Nal Hutta.

“What a crock of piss,” she muttered, resisting the urge to shake the mud off her boot. It was only going to get worse.

“Indeed,” said Dondavi, examining the sleazy yard, taking in the greedy eyes already zeroing in on the _Hangover_. He wore a black cloak, pulled over his head so that his face was still mostly visible, which irritated Ilaria.

Not that it was a particularly fancy freighter, but it was modified with cannons, and there was a revamped Jedi starfighter docked up top. Ilaria had engaged all of her intruder and security measures before leaving the ship, and left Kayfour and Cheap on board just in case. They could at least comm her if someone did managed to get through the ship’s defenses.

“That’s a nice looking ship there,” a nearby weequay, part of a gaggle of them, remarked as they passed.

Ilaria again wore her scarf over her face and hair, as well as having the hood of her cloak on so that she resembled little more than a foggy shadow with eyes. She growled, “Touch it, and you’ll be dead before your hand leaves the hull.”

She reached out telepathically, and impressed on the entire weequay party’s subconscious, _Don’t try to steal or rob that ship_.

They averted their gazes, suddenly more interested in their own conversations than the medium-sized freighter than had recently landed.

“You are…not quite what I expected when your mother told me about you,” said Dondavi carefully. He didn’t seem to be holding a grudge about her knocking him out in the swamp, and waking up in her ship in hyperspace.

Ilaria found that everything he did irritated her. She had not told him about her prowess in the Force, or even the fact that she carried a lightsaber. She wanted to keep him in the dark as long as possible, tell him as little as possible.

“My mother hasn’t seen me in a few years.”

“You must have had some interesting exploits off of Xeroianjj,” he said, and Ilaria resisted the urge to wince at the mention of her home planet so openly. “How did you get off the planet in the first place? Did it have something to do with the togruta and human that disappeared when you did?”

“Enough.” Ilaria grabbed him by the collar and dragged him into a nearby alley, throwing him against the slimy wall and snarling softly, “Listen, bud, I’m the one who asks the questions here, understand? I don’t care who you are, or what you used to be. From here on, you do what I tell you to do. You don’t ask me questions about my life, and you don’t mention anything about Xeroianjj or my mother without me asking. In fact, don’t say anything at all unless I tell you to. Understand?”

Dondavi’s light grey eyes studied her for a second, alarm flashing through them, and Ilaria knew he was thinking about reaching for his lightsaber. It was an instinct.

She tightened her grip on his collar. “ _Understand?_ ”

“Yes.”

“Good.” She released her grip on him, and stepped back so he could readjust his clothes. “I’m always happy to clear things up.”

They resumed their walk through the seedy streets.

“I suppose no one taught you to respect your elders,” said Dondavi.

Ilaria balled a fist and reminded herself that she still needed the idiot if she wanted to find her mother. “You have done nothing to earn my respect. Now, what’s the name of this merry band of pirates we’re looking for?”

Dondavi had refused to tell her, no doubt knowing that she would ditch him the moment she had the name for herself. He said that he had heard which band of pirates had hit the transport with her mother from someone who had been on the same transport.

“The Cutthroats. They’re a small, independent group.”

“Charming.”

“I take it you can fight? This may get messy.”

“What did I say about asking questions?”

Tahnsu was seventeen standard years, and he was already taller than most of his fellow Cutthroats. He was a nautolan, and so the humid, swampy environment of Nal Hutta suited him well. He was in good spirits as he toasted with his fellow pirates, laughing and drinking alike. The liquor was spiced, and it was good, and they had just made a massive score, so all was well.

Even though he had only been a member of the Cutthroats for two years, he was one of the best pirates in the group. He had this talent, for seeming to know what things would happened before they actually happened, a sixth sense for where his enemy’s next blow or blaster bolt was going to go. He was an excellent shot as well, and rarely missed. All was well.

He watched his fellow pirates, roughly twenty in all, flirt with strangers in the cantina as well as each other, which was something he quite frankly didn’t understand. He knew he was beyond the age of understanding the game of flirting and seduction, it just had no appeal to him. Which was apparently a shame, as he was often told that he was quite handsome by interested parties whom could rarely seem to understand his disinterest in them.

So, between toasts and games and old stories, when the others were preoccupied with flirting, he watched the cantina around him.

Nal Hutta was a fine place for a criminal or anyone interested in finding criminals, and since it was the home of the Hutts, it was one of the few places where the Imperial influence wasn’t intoxicating. He spotted smugglers, pirates, bounty hunters, and any other seedy and deplorable sort imaginable. There were, after all, his people.

A new couple walked through the door though, and something touched his sixth sense—his mind whispered to him, _pay attention_. The first was tall and thin, wiry, an aging human from the looks of his face. The second was impossible to distinguish, shorter and smaller, garbed in a smoky cloak drawn well over their face. However, their gaze distinctly turned to Tahnsu, and for a brief moment, he thought he caught the shining eyes under the hood.

The figure quickly looked away, and the couple moved to the bar for a drink.

Tahnsu’s skin prickled as it normally did when he was in danger, and he instinctively knew that off all the deplorable figures in the cantina, that hooded figure was the most dangerous. For a while, he watched them, but the smaller figure never removed their hood, nor did they look in his direction again. Strangely enough, no one else in the bar seemed to really notice the couple’s presence. Their gazes drifted over the newcomers as if they didn’t exist at all, and even the bartender ignored them unless the male motioned for another drink.

Strange.

Not that people were used to staring at each other in Nal Hutta cantinas, but there was usually a customary sizing-up, a silent show of ranking.

And yet, this couple seemed immune to it.

Tahnsu’s skin prickled again. Part of him wanted to approach the hooded figure, and part of him wanted to get very, very far away.

He told his fellow pirates that he was going back to the ship, and exited the cantina, making a point to head down the crowded streets in the opposite direction of the ship. He glanced back once, and alarm flared through him as he caught sight of the hooded figure out of the corner of his eye.

It was following him.

He glanced back again, but it was gone. No, not gone. He just couldn’t see it. His sixth sense told him that it was still there, stalking him like prey. He was being followed.

For a while he walked on, winding and turning and doubling back, but the sensation never faded. The figure, although unseen, never gave up the slow, deliberate chase.

Finally, Tahnsu had enough.

He was, after all, an excellent pirate and amazing shot. Who did this stranger think they were to target him, personally? He grew angry, and suddenly, he had an idea.

Ahead, there was a dark, narrow alley. The front was partially blocked by dumpsters, and Tahnsu squeezed past them, entering the darkness of the alley that made even his large eyes strain with effort to see. He forced himself to stare straight ahead until he was halfway down the alley, carefully moving a hand to one of the blasters around his belt.

The hooded figure was there, in the alley. He could feel it.

He whirled, aiming the blaster directly at their unseen face. “Why are you following me?”

The figure was a few paces away, a shadowed statue. If they were alarmed at having a blaster pointed at their face, they didn’t show it. “Do you know what I am?”

The voice was human, female.

“A human,” he growled.

“Well, you’re not wrong.” Her voice was casual, as if they were two old friends sharing a drink in a bar. “I suppose that was an unfair question. We as sentients can be many things. I suppose the better question is, what are you?”

“Leave me alone!” Tahnsu snarled, his hand trembling. Something about the woman absolutely unnerved him. “Go back to your business, or I will shoot you here and now.”

“So, rude,” the woman said, unbothered. He still couldn’t see your face. “I would rather have a civil conversation with you.”

How many times had he heard that line before? Well, maybe not that exact line, but something similar. _Let your guard down so that I can rob or kill you_.

Quicker than should have been possible, he drew both his blasters and fired on the hooded woman. She dodged, and a humming beam of blue energy appeared in her hands, deflecting some of his shots.

Tahnsu, rather stupidly, lunged for her, trying to get his blaster inside the beam of blue energy so that she couldn’t deflect his bolts.

And then his world exploded with pain.

There was the acrid smell of burning flesh, following by a thump and pain rocketing through the right side of his skull. He dropped his blasters, and he fell to his knees from the pain. His hands went to his lekku—except, they weren’t there. No. Hot, bubbling stumps of flesh replaced his lekku which were…stars, half of his lekku were on the ground beside him, still twitching in the mud.

Standing over him, a dangerously humming lightsaber blade held before his face, was the hooded figure. The energy blade retracted, and the woman offered him a hand up, “Now, would you like to learn how to properly fight?”

Tahnsu stared at the dark silhouette, pain numbing his thoughts to pure instinct. _Take her hand_. He reached forward, and she pulled him to his feet with surprising strength for a figure of her size.

“Come,” she said, leading him out of the alley. “I can help heal you.”


	5. Chapter 5

Ilaria was wondering what the kriff she was thinking as she led the teenager back to the ship, the side of his head already cauterizing where she had given him an impromptu lekku-cut. Not that she had necessarily wanted to do it, but the kid came at her like a demon and she needed some none-fatal way to stop him. Perhaps there was a lesson in all of it, if she spun it the right way.

He followed her silently, and Ilaria knew that he was concentrating on not passing out more than anything else. No one tried to stop or mug them, thanks to a little telepathic influence from Ilaria, and by the time they made it back to the _Hangover_ , she was honestly surprised that the young man hadn’t passed out yet. He was strong.

“Sorry to give you a haircut,” she said as she helped him up the ramp. He was a bit taller than her, despite his youth, and he leaned heavily against her. She had to use the Force to keep them both standing upright. “But to be fair, you did try to shoot me in the face.”

“It’s a good point,” he grunted, his large, dark eyes blinking rapidly as they entered the bright, artificial light of the ship. His skin was a dark, green-blue, and he was dressed in well-worn travelers’ clothes suitable for a pirate.

Ilaria led him to the common room, which featured a U-shaped booth and a couple of other chairs. Dondavi was waiting there as well, and he took in the two of them with open-mouthed shock.

“What happened?”

“Stop asking stupid questions,” Ilaria snapped, depositing the teenage nautolan on the edge of the booth and reaching for the med kit in the overhead storage compartments. She immediately produced a stimulant-painkiller injection, which she gave the boy, and the proceeded to clean and put spot-bacta patches on the stumps that were once his lekku. He hardly flinched during the treatment, but his fists were balled so tightly that the flesh of his fist was turning white.

“What’s your name kid?”

“Tahnsu.”

“Nice to meet you, Tahnsu. I’m Ilaria.”

“Who’s your friend?”

“That’s Dondavi, but he’s not important. Annddd, you’re all bandaged up. I would give those bacta treatments a few hours to work.”

“Mmhmm.” Tahnsu swayed in the booth. The bandages wrapping around his head and chin looked almost comical. He was trying to focus his gaze on her, but the painkillers made that quite hard.

“Perhaps you should lay down,” said Ilaria, offering him a hand up and letting the boy lean heavily on her shoulders as she led him to the spare bunkroom. She deposited him on the bottom bunk, resisting the guilt flooding through her. She should have been more careful with her blows, or perhaps she should have knocked him unconscious telepathically. Still, she had found that many preferred physical harms over telepathic intrusion. “I’m sorry about your lekku.”

Tahnsu shrugged, giving her a crooked smile, exposing his inhumanely sharp canines. “At least I’ll look like a true pirate now.”

Ilaria returned his smile. “At least.”

She switched off the lights and left him to heal, re-entering the common room to find had been joined by Kayfour, and the former was staring at her with something like recovering shock.

“Only a lightsaber can create wounds like that,” he said.

“Really?” said Ilaria lazily, retrieving a bottle of water from the refrigerator unit. Per usual, the water had a metallic taste from the bottle, and she shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Who taught you how to use it?”

“No one.”

He stepped forward, a new intensity coming to his visage. “I need to know.”  
Ilaria glared at him, bristling. Her lip twitched, and she met his gaze evenly. “No, you don’t. You don’t need to know anything about me.”

“Yes, I do! You are Siraei’s daughter, a girl who has supposedly never been off of Xeroianjj, and yet you own a ship, two droids, wield a lightsaber, and can identify a Force-user in a crowded cantina. Who taught you all of this?” He gestured to the ship, and then produced his own lightsaber from his belt, holding it before her eyes. “Who taught you how to use one of these?”

“You really can’t follow directions, can you? There are many things about me that you don’t need to know, and guess what, I don’t have to tell you. The only reason I haven’t thrown you out of the airlock or abandoned you on a desert planet is because my mother apparently cares for you. That’s it.”

Dondavi sighed and deflated, suddenly looking very old and eyeing his lightsaber with something like regret. “Please, tell me one thing, do the Jedi live on?”

Ilaria thought of the ghosts that visited her, of Ahsoka and of the temples that still stood. “I suppose that depends on your perspective. In my opinion, they do.”

He nodded, and clipped his lightsaber to his belt, a wide grin cracking over his face. “Ah yes. Thank you. I can’t believe it. Thank you.”

Ilaria stared at him, wondering what the hell she had gotten herself into. She also wondered what her mother saw in the man.

“Excuse me,” said Kayfour, giving Ilaria a pointed head-tilt, “There is a transmission for you.”

“Isn’t there always,” she said, and waving a hand at Dondavi added, “I’ll be in the cockpit if you need me.”

“What about Tahnsu?”

“He won’t be waking up for a while.”

Cerea was the home planet of the Cereans, such as Master Ki-Adi-Mundi was. Had been. Sometimes, the dissociation Jedi had with their home worlds struck Ahsoka as strange, especially as she traveled the winder galaxy outside the realms of the Order. After all, what memories did they have of their home worlds outside of their earliest ones, memories so faint that they had almost forgotten them?

Asphodar 2 was one of the Outsider Citadels on Cerea, entire cities confined to a singular building. They were designed in order to confine immigrants and visitors to the planet away from the native countryside and populations alike. Great metal monsters that jutted from the ground, like a palm and fingers reaching for the sky.

Ahsoka landed on one of the platforms and, pulling her cloak over her montrals, exited the ship. The platform attendee was a curly-haired human, and she promptly paid the woman before descending into the durasteel blocks of the city. After a night on the Sayssorsa beaches with Ilaria, everything in civilization seemed made of far too much metal and far too loud to Ahsoka’s sensitive hearing. She reminded herself to complain about it to Ilaria later.

Ahsoka descended the levels, taking the transparisteel lift until she was on the right floor, and a short walk later, standing before the door to the Beachum’s apartment. She noted the great flurry of footsteps already on the other side of the door. That didn’t bode well. She knocked lightly on the door, and the footsteps grew closer.

A flushed woman with dark skin and tightly curled blonde hair answered the door. She was short and plump, and her eyes were wide with worry. Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she wordlessly ushered Ahsoka in.

The apartment was a wreck. Furniture had been pulled from the walls, bags lay strewn across the surfaces, and the father along with one of the older children sat at the table. Both hung their heads in dejection, and in the father’s hand there was a ripped and crumbled piece of flimsi.

“What happened?” Ahsoka asked, painfully aware of the youngest, Adan, was nowhere in sight. “Did they discover him?”

The mother, Camila, began to sob, collapsing into an empty chair, and the father numbly passed the flimsi to Ahsoka. She was not overly accustomed to flimsi, but Ilaria kept journals of the stuff, with special brushes and inks for writing within them. Her characters were neat and uniform compared to the ones scrawled by Adan’s inexperience hand. His note read, _I don't want you to be on the run because of me. You all shouldn't have to leave home. I love you._

“He’s gone,” Camila sobbed, mopping her eyes with her shirt sleeves. She motioned to the messy apartment. “We’ve searched everywhere in here. But we didn’t want to search the city and risk…risk putting him in more danger.”

“Yes,” said Ahsoka nodding. The distraught family running around looking for the boy would have definitely caught unwanted attention. “Do you have an idea as to when he left?”

“Five, six, standard hours?” Camila sniffled, rubbing her nose. “He left while we were sleeping. I don’t know how none of us heard him.”

“It’s not your fault,” Ahsoka assured her, sending out a sense of comfort into the Force. “I will search for him. Stay here, and try to remain calm. We don’t want to attract unwanted attention.”

They agreed, and Ahsoka began her tour of the city by herself. She headed directly for the landing pads, and immediately began searching the platforms and crews for the Adan’s face. She reached out with all of her senses within the Force, and felt…nothing. She searched as long as she dared without looking conspicuous, but finally, she was forced to succumb to the truth: Adan was already gone. Somehow, he was no longer in the city, and Ahsoka strongly suspected that he was no longer on the planet.

She made it back to the apartment, and was painfully greeted by the hopeful and then disappointed faces of the waiting family. Camila jumped to her feet, only to sit farther into her chair when she caught Ahsoka’s expression.

Her sobs grew louder.

“What do we do now?” she asked desperately. “What do we do?”

Ahsoka sighed, taking in the sad scene before her. “You three are going to get on my ship, and I will take you to a safe house. After that, I will do everything in my power to find your son.”


	6. Chapter 6

Tahnsu woke with his head throbbing in pain and, more importantly, something small and metal repeatedly poking his ribcage. Half asleep, he swatted it away, and was greeted to complete consciousness by an indignant series of beeps. He dutifully opened his eyes to see a black-painted R2 unit hovering behind the bunk he lay on, a metal arm retracting back into its cylindrical body. It let out another series of beeps.

The events of the previous night came back to him, and his hands went to the right side of his head, where the throbbing was the worse, and he felt a thick wrapping of bandages.  
Half of his lekku, gone.

To be fair, Tahnsu had long made peace with the idea that he might lose a limb or so. It’s not like it was necessarily uncommon for a pirate to lose bodily parts, but he often thought it would be a hand (those were common to lose) or a finger (even more common to lose) or perhaps a leg, below the knee, maybe. Sure, maybe he would accidentally lose a piece of his lekku, or one of them, but the entire side of his head? He was already thinking of all the stories he could make up about it. However, it hardly seemed that any would be better than a strange Jedi cutting them off with a lightsaber.

The door to the bunk room slid open and in entered a surprisingly young human woman. He realized it must have been the woman from the night before, Ilaria, as he had not seen her face then. Her hair was golden and braided, and she worn a stern, dignified expression. Some might have considered her beautiful.

“How are we feeling?”

“Never been better,” said Tahnsu, sitting up and therefore causing the room to spin dangerously. “I feel as good as new.”

“I should tell you,” said Ilaria, stepping inside and leaning against the wall, crossing her arms, “That I am not a very easy person to lie to.”

“I’ve never had to lie to a Jedi before.”

She smiled slightly. “I am not a Jedi, but I am what many would call a Force-user.”

Tahnsu frowned. “Is there a difference?”

“Yes and no,” she said. “Force-sensitivity is a trait, being a Jedi is a religion.”

“I’ve never heard it explained like that before,” said Tahnsu thoughtfully. He had only ever heard people talk about Jedi using the Force. “Who are you?”

“My name is Ilaria.”

“I know that. I mean, _what_ are you?”

She crossed her arms. “What I am is someone that can teach you about the Force.”

Tahnsu thought about his sixth sense, the way he sometimes seemed to know things before they happened, the way he sometimes lifted crates that were normally too heavy for even him. “You think I can use the Force?”

Ilaria smiled. “I know that you can. Or else you wouldn’t have been able to get close enough to be for me to do that.” She motioned at the bandaged side of his head. “Nor would you have noticed that I was following you. You’re a pirate now, but how long will you be satisfied with that lifestyle? You’re different than your partners. You know it. I can show you how to use the Force, and how to fight. Hell, you could probably become a Jedi if you really wanted to.”

“Me? _A Jedi_?”

“Yes, you.”

Tahnsu stared at her. He wanted to tell her that she was joking, or that she was insane, and yet, the blistered and bandaged stumps where his lekku used to be were a testament to the fact that she at least knew what she was talking about when it came to fighting. And then she had brought him back to her ship, patched him up, and offered to make him into a Jedi. Insane.

“What do you want from me?” he asked suspiciously. “Nothing is free. Especially not here.”

She tilted her head as if considering the question, and take her time to reply. “Well, I suppose I want you to be the best person you can be and eventually, a productive member of society. Maybe one day you could help people as well.”

If he had been feeling particularly sour, Tahnsu may have pointed out that in a galaxy as corrupt as theirs, there was hardly any productive members in society. “So, let me get this straight: you’re willing to teach me how to be a Jedi on the hope that I will one day help people?”

“Yes.”

“You seem to be a little young for a teacher.”

“You seem to be pretty close to bald to be mouthing off to me.” She said it with a smile.

Tahnsu stared at her, and then laughed. “Okay. I want in. I want to learn how to use the Force.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s only one problem…the Cutthroats aren’t the kind of gang you can just walk away from.”

“Oh, you can leave that to me. How long have you been with them?”

“A standard year-ish.”

“Perfect.”

Ilaria had never freed a pirate before, but she had dealt with her fair share of pirates. They appreciated wit and a good joke and a pretty face, all of which she fancied being in her favor, and they were very straightforward with what they wanted. They wanted riches, and anything of value, and they were willing to sell a stranger for it. Genuine smiles with a hand on a blaster. Yes, that was something Ilaria could do quite well.

And her plan didn’t involve Tahnsu or Dondavi at all, which was an added bonus. They stood by for backup, ready to be called if she needed them, and Ilaria privately wondered who would be of more use: the teenage pirate on painkillers or the old Jedi who seemed like he was one good conversation away from floundering. Not that she would need them, anyways. Tahnsu had told her where the pirates ship was, how to get into it, and where everyone slept. That was all the information she needed.

She waited until it was once again nightfall to leave, painfully aware of Tahnsu and Dondavi following her before dropping back a kilometer away from the ship and waiting in the darkness for her call, as if she would need them.

The night wasn’t old enough nor the morning young enough for the pirates to be back from the cantinas quite yet, she Ilaria stopped in the shadows of the shipyard, hunkering down and patiently waiting as she watched their large, armored freighter. Two guards sat at the ramp—one was a rodian, and the other a human. They occasionally passed a bottle of liquor between the two of them.

It was almost too easy.

She waited, until the sky began to go grey with the sunrise, and the rowdy banter of the pirates began to echo through the yard as they made their way back from the cantinas. Most of them were there, and they leaned and slouched and joked, walked sideways more than straight and yet somehow still managing to make it towards the ship’s ramp. Of course one of them, a trandoshan, managed to walk sideways right off the ramp, which set forth a ripple of hoots and jeering from his counterparts.

Ilaria thought of the story Ahsoka had told her: of the time she had been kidnapped from the jungles of Felucia when she was a teenager. During the Clone Wars. And how they had taken her to her a private island to be hunted like animals. This trandoshan, green in skin color, used his powerful arms to haul himself onto the ramp once more and clamber onto the ship after his companions whom had been more than happy to leave him in the mud.  
Ilaria gathered herself, and followed.

She slipped up the ramp noiselessly, and the trandoshan didn’t even have time to let out a cry of alarm as she waved a hand in front of his face and whispered with the Force, “Sleep.”

His eyes rolled and he dropped, and Ilaria had to use the Force to keep him from falling too heavily to the metal floor as the ramp lifted and closed, sealing her within the ship.

She cast out her senses within the Force, and quickly located the minds of all within the ship. There was only one in which she cared about, and that was Captain Taule. He was asleep in his room, apparently, and dreaming about…drinking at a cantina. Amazing. She would have thought that a pirate would have had a more productive imagination.

Winding her way through the corridors, using the Force to avoid anyone else, Ilaria headed to the Captain’s quarters and slipped inside. Captain Taule was a sullustan. He was still dressed, and only halfway slouched onto his bunk. The amount of mud covering the sheets was enough to make Ilaria’s skin crawl, and she stood above him, watching the excess folds of his face flap as he snored.

She closed her eyes, and gently rested a hand on his forehead, venturing further into his thoughts and dreams until her consciousness was wound around his like a snake. In her mind’s eye, she constructed a durasteel square room, with a table in the middle and two chairs. She sat at one of the chairs, making sure the light was right, and then, she squeezed.

Captain Taule appeared in the chair across from her, blinking rapidly and turning his head from side to side, taking in the door less room, the table, and then finally her. Of course, he wasn’t seeing her at all, but instead the pretty twi’lek girl that had been dancing in the cantina the night before, an image courtesy of his memory.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“It’s not important,” said Ilaria soothingly. “You are dreaming and you are safe, but I need you to answer a question.”

If she had tried hard enough, or if it came down to it, Ilaria could have searched through his memories until she found those of her mother. However, it was much easier and less damaging to his thoughts if he willingly provided the information. A datapad appeared in front of her with a picture of her mother, and she let Taule examine the image.

“Do you remember what happened to her?”

He frowned, studying the datapad closely. “Yes, yes,” he said. “I remember that one. A pain, she was. Ended up selling her to some big business man on Coruscant.”

“But slavery isn’t legal on Coruscant.”

Taule shrugged. “If you’re rich enough, it is.”

“Who did you sell her to?”

“His name was Viong Day. He’s into real estate and he pays well. That’s all I know.”

“Thank you.” Ilaria leaned back in her chair, quelling her excitement. “There is also the matter of young Tahnsu.”

“What about him?”

“He’s dead. When you wake up, you’ll wonder where he is, and you will look in allies until you find what’s left of his rotting lekku in the mud, and you will know that he is gone. Okay?”

“Okay?”

“Now, go back to sleep.”

Taule nodded, his eyes drooping shut, and the room faded.

Ilaria opened her eyes in time to see the sullustan smack his lips together, and roll back over in his bunk, effectively knocking more mud onto it from his boots. She left, exiting the ship as the sun was well into rising, and setting off in the direction of the alley Dondavi and Tahnsu awaited her in. She thought that the sun was the only beautiful thing about Nal Hutta.

She found the two slumped in the alley, Tahnsu asleep in the mud, leaning against the wall, and Dondavi sitting cross-legged beside him, looking quite at peace with the world. Even if Ilaria couldn’t read his emotions, his eyes would have given away the hopefulness that blossomed within him. He didn’t even need to ask the question out loud.

“Our time has not been wasted,” she said, not only weariness curbing her enthusiasm. She nodded to Tahnsu. “Wake him up. It’s time we get off of the rancid planet.”

No one spoke until they were back at the ship, and it was only after they were sitting in the common room booth, each with a cup of caf before them, that Ilaria began to explain. She first addressed Tahnsu, “You don’t need to worry about the Cutthroats anymore. They will think you were killed.”

Tahnsu nodded, looking between her and Dondavi. His respect for her had only grown in the last rotation. “Why do I feel like I’m not the only reason you wanted into that ship?”

“Because you’re not,” she said truthfully. “You’re not the reason we are on Nal Hutta at all. Running into you was simply fate. The reason we are here is that we are trying to track a woman that the Cutthroats sold around two standard years ago.”

He frowned. “They haven’t dealt in slaves as long as I’ve been with them.”

“You haven’t been with them very long.”

Dondavi leaned forward, clutching his cup of caf with both hands. “Do you know what happened to her?”  
Ilaria frowned. “Yes, she was sold to a man that lives on Coruscant.”

The older man’s face fell.

“Yeah.”

Coruscant, the city-planet. Coruscant, the former home of the Jedi Order, and the current home of the Sith Lord Darth Sidious, commonly known as Emperor Palpatine. Coruscant, the metal and transparisteel beast of its own volition.

The door to the common room opened, and Kayfour shuffled in. “Mistress, there is a transmission for you.”

Ilaria rubbed her eyes. “Alright. In the office?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Have Cheap prepare for takeoff. We need to get off of this mud hole. Also, get Tahnsu some painkillers and show him to an empty bunkroom.” She turned to Dondavi. “I take it you can pilot a ship still? Get us into open space, and keep us out of the way of anyone that might want to bother us.”

The _Hangover_ was a medium-sized freighter, and it had four bunk rooms in total. One of which Ilaria had converted into an office and traveling library for herself. She entered the room to find a miniature holo of Ahsoka waiting for her on the desk, and the relief that swept through her was quickly brushed aside when she caught the worried look on Ahsoka’s expression, her white over eye markings knit together in concern.

“Ash.” Ilaria took her seat at the desk. “Is everything okay?”

Her cuts cut downwards and she shook her head. “No. I went to Cerea to retrieve the family that recently reached out to us for help—the human one with the Force-sensitive boy, Jaimie. Well, the boy has run away off-planet.”

“Stars,” groaned Ilaria, running a hand over her face again. “Any idea where he went?”

“No. Only that he left from Asphodar 2 a rotation ago. I had to get the family out of there first.”

“Yes, that was good thinking.” Ilaria leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. “Finding the boy will be a lot easier if I help you.”

Ahsoka sighed. “Yes. It would be. Have you found any leads on your mother?”

“Yes, and more.” Ilaria opened her eyes, once more and sighed. “I wish you were here.”

“What happened?”

“Two things, and I’m going to be short because I’m tired. One: I ran into a Force-sensitive teenage nautolan boy, and I think I took him on as an apprentice. And two: my mother was sold to a man on Coruscant.”

Ahsoka stared at her blankly. “You what?”

“I mean, we haven’t had the ‘student and teacher’ conversation, but he now has a room on my ship so there’s that.”

“Ilaria, how…” Ahsoka shook her head. “How do you still manage to surprise me?”

“Someone has to keep this relationship interesting.”

“Yeah, because we don’t have enough interesting in our lives as it is. But your mother, do you know who she was sold to?”

“Someone by the name of Viong Day.”

“But slavery isn’t legal on Coruscant.”

“It is if you’re rich enough, apparently.”

“Getting on Coruscant is going to be difficult.”

“If not impossible.”

They stared at each other for a few moments, and Ilaria wished she could reach through the holo and touch Ahsoka’s cheek, trace her fingers across the white marking that was slowly elongating with age. She had to admit, that longing may have influenced what she said next, “Let’s rendezvous, and I can help you find the boy.”

“But what about your mother? And Dondavi and the nautolan boy?”

“His name is Tahnsu, by the way, and my mother can wait a little longer. Right now Jaimie is the priority. As for Dondavi and Tahnsu, well, I have that disguising nanotechnology and the voice emulator. I would say we could forgo it, but the chance of Dondavi recognizing you is too high.”

“Do you still not trust him?”

“Not quite yet. Not with you, anyways.”

Ahsoka smiled. “What are you, my protector?”

“As long as I live.”

Dondavi’s mind was already running through the possibilities as he sat in copilot’s chair. Things were hardly going as he expected, from Ilaria to finding Siraei. As for Ilaria, he had expected to find a native girl that loved plants and animals, and instead he found a powerful Force user with her own secrets. And as for finding Siraei, he had been hoping that she had somehow escaped the pirates, but he instead found that she had be sold to Coruscant. Coruscant, the one planet in the galaxy no Jedi, former or not, should ever go.

Ilaria entered the cockpit, taking her seat in the pilots seat and beginning to plot a set of coordinates into the navicomputer.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s not important.”

The girl, young woman, reminded Dondavi of her mother. The looked astonishingly similar, except for their eyes. Siraei’s eyes were bright green and gold and lively, and Ilaria’s were dark and stormy and secretive. They even had the same mannerisms, and the same orderly curtness to their voices when they spoke of matters of importance.

He asked, “Do you still not trust me?”

“I rarely trust anyone,” she said flatly. “And some things are not solely about trust, Dondavi.”

 _She’s protecting someone_ , he thought. And then he thought of how she refused to name the person who had taught her to use the Force. Were they one in the same?

“But we are not headed for Coruscant?”

“No.”

“But your mother.”

“She can wait.”

Dondavi could hardly believe what he was hearing. “What’s more important than her?”

“A boy that has run away.”

“Do you know this boy?”

“No, but his family misses him dearly, and the galaxy is an unsafe place.”

“You’re going to forgo finding your mother for the sake of a boy you do not know? One that ran away? He must have run for a reason!”

Ilaria clenched a fist, and worked her jaw. She fixed him with a penetrating stare. “What happened to you to make you stop caring about anyone besides yourself?”

A chill ran through Dondavi, and he hoped that she didn’t notice. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“I don’t only care about myself,” he said indignantly. “I care about Siraei. All of this is for her.” Yes, he cared about Siraei and himself, and absolutely nothing else in the galaxy. Well, there was something else, but that wasn’t important until he found Siraei. It hardly mattered. Ilaria’s prowess in the Force frightened him, and whenever he was around her, Siraei was all that mattered to him in his thoughts. That was how it had to be.

“Sure,” said Ilaria. She flipped the lever, and they jumped to hyperspace. “Yes, you wanting to find her has nothing to do with the way you feel about my mother.”

“I love her. I don’t know what more you want from me.”

“Neither do I.”

“Then the way you treat me is hardly fair,” he insisted.

“I have been more than fair,” she retorted. “Why do I feel like we keep having the same argument over and over? Maybe it’s been too long since I have slept. You know what, it has been. While we’re in hyperspace, I’m going to take a nap, and I think you should do the same.”

Her tone implied that it was not a suggestion.

“Who will pilot the ship?”

“Cheap will see to it. I encourage you to sleep, Dondavi. You’re looking older by the minute. Kayfour will show you to your bunk.”

She stood and left, and the protocol droid, which had been standing behind them the entire time, stepped forward and motioned towards the door. Kayfour unsettled Dondavi to an extent. The droid was much quieter than a regular protocol droid, and it took orders, even ones as simple as requesting a cup of caf, from no one save for Ilaria.

“Right this way, sir,” the droid said pleasantly, stepping aside and motioning for the door.

The bunks were large and comfortable, and Dondavi meditated lying down for a while before finally drifting off to sleep. During his meditation, he saw a great storm, one with clouds so dark that they were almost black, and with lighting so white it illuminated the sky with each rumble of thunder. It was beautiful, and it was terrifying.


	7. Chapter 7

Ahsoka was once again parked on a rented landing pad on Asphodar 2, waiting patiently. She stood at the top of her descended ramp, watching the crowd. She felt Ilaria’s presence ten minutes before her grey cloak was visible through in the throng, and she resisted the urge to smile until they were both safely inside the ship. Before Ilaria could even pull down the hood of her cloak, Ahsoka wrapped her in a hug and kissed her deeply, causing her to laugh.

“Miss me?”

“Every day.”

Ilaria put a warm hand to Ahsoka’s cheek her stormy eyes taking her in, and kissed her once more. “Shall we get started?”

She took off her backpack and opened it to reveal the large syringes and the canisters of nanobots. There was also a small, circular ball that was the voice emulator droid. Sometimes Ahsoka wished she had been a slightly less famous during the Clone Wars.

“What did you program them to look like?”

“I had Kayfour generate a completely random togruta female.”

“I wonder what it would have been like to be a male.”

Ilaria considered with a frown. “Well, next time you need to put in requests in advance.”

Ahsoka laughed, and soon she was lying on the floor, a thick strip of leather between her teeth. That alone had cause Ilaria to cock her head sideways and remark, “In a weird way, it’s kind of sexy. I like it when I can see your canines.”

It was a distraction, and it worked, because Ahsoka was too busy trying to come up with a reply instead of thinking of the way Ilaria used the Force to simultaneously pierce the thick needles connected to the syringes of nanobot solution into her skin. Burning, icy pain ran through her entire body. She let out a strangled scream, biting down on the leather so hard her jaw hurt. One of her hands balled into a fist, and the other clutched Ilaria’s hand so hard it was a miracle her bones didn’t break.

White pulsed before her eyes and then, just as quickly as it had come on, the pain stopped.

“Careful,” Ilaria warned. “Open your mouth.”

Ahsoka did as she was told, and Ilaria gently wedged the thick leather strip from her teeth. Her sharper-than-human canines had dug considerable dents into the strip, and Ilaria cast it aside before offering Ahsoka a hand to sit up.

“Careful, Ash. Wow, this is freaky. One second.” She scrambled to her feet, heading to the refresher and returning with a handheld mirror. “Look. I think Kayfour actually did a good job.”

Ahsoka took the mirror to examine herself and saw a stranger in the reflection. Her skin was an extremely light grey, and oval-shaped white markings encompassed each of her eyes. Two more white circles stood above her eyes on her forehead, and a white stripe went down her chin from her bottle lip. Where her lekku had previously been dark blue, they were grey, and the spacing between the strips was closer together. Her irises were the same grey as her skin, and her montrals curved inwards more than they had before. Even her face shape was different, narrower, and her lips were thinner.

“You’re right,” said Ahsoka, watching the lips in the mirror move and hardly believing that they were her own. “This is weird.”

“Indeed,” said Ilaria, regarding her with a slightly frown. “What name will you go by?”

“Ashla,” said Ahsoka. Again, in the mirror, the stranger’s lips moved. After all, it had been a while since she used that name. And that way, Ilaria could still call her Ash without it seeming out of place. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s suiting. That’s a lot better than Suellen,” said Ilaria, referring to the alias Ahsoka had first used when they met and gently taking the mirror. She replaced the syringes and needles and leather strip into her bag, instead producing a change of clothes and a new headpiece. If Ilaria was anything, she was thorough when it came to disguises. “Here you go, Ashla, your new clothes.”

“Why thank you, Lady Moon,” said Ahsoka, accepting the pile of cloth.

“Oh, shut up,” said Ilaria. She gently pulled Ahsoka’s normal headpiece from her head and replaced it with the one she had brought with her. It was a dark red, a few shades darker than human blood. She studied Ahsoka critically for a moment and said with a half-sigh, “I already miss your eyes.”

“They’ll be back soon enough.”

Ahsoka changed and locked down her ship, setting the intruder security measures, and Ilaria waited at the ramp for her. When Ahsoka joined her at the ramp, Ilaria gave her a lopsided smile and said, “It’s a good thing the Force exists because if it were left up to my eyes, I would have never have recognized you.”

“Maybe you just have bad eyes.”

“Ha ha,” said Ilaria, hitting the button for the ramp to descend. “Now, let’s find this boy.”

They walked the landing pads slowly, Ilaria taking the lead. Ahsoka had shown her a holo of the boy, and with that in mind, Ilaria had led the way through the throng, managing to appear to be heading somewhere without heading anywhere in particular. She had pulled her scarf over her face once more, as she normally did in public, and so all that remained visible was her eyes. Cloaked figures such as themselves were not uncommon at a spaceport.

Ahsoka wasn’t entirely sure how Ilaria did it, but the past quite literally spoke to her sometimes. And, as they wandered the platform, Ahsoka knew that her girlfriends mind was in the past more so than the present, and so she kept a watch for curious eyes as she followed Ilaria’s winding path through the crowd.

“He was scared,” she said, her voice soft and distant. Her eyes were glazed. “Unsure of what to do. How old is he?”

“Eight standard years.”

“So young,” Ilaria said detachedly. “And yet, someone gave him a ride off of this hunk of metal because…” She titled her head slightly. “Did the family notice any credits were missing?”

“No credits, but the mother noticed a necklace was missing. She thought she had misplaced it when she was packing.”

“She didn’t want to think that her son would steal from her to run away,” she said, nodding slowly. “But he did.”

They wandered farther through the platform, coming to a stop in front of one currently occupied by a freighter from a food and ration supply company. Ilaria went to the manager responsible for the platform, and with a little help from the Force, convinced him to let her see the records.

“There,” she said, highlighting a takeoff. “Captain Borhne, trade shipment to Iacus, Christophsis. That’s the ship that took him.”

 _Christophsis_. Ahsoka hadn’t been there since the Clone Wars. Since she had first met Anakin and Obi-wan. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

They made their way back towards the Hangover, and as they walked, Ilaria quietly informed Ahsoka of Dondavi’s frustration at them pausing their search for her mother in favor of finding Adan, as well as the unfortunate incident of her shaving off some of Tahnsu’s lekku. However, apparently, the nautolan didn’t take the incident to heart.

Tahnsu waited in an uncomfortable silence with Dondavi for Ilaria to return. They picked at their food—he didn’t know if it was lunch or breakfast—and shifted his weight uncomfortably as Kayfour looked on. Despite being made for protocol, the droid never once made a move to offer to serve them or make them more comfortable, which struck him as strange. Ilaria must have customized his programming.

“So, how did you meet Ilaria?” he asked Dondavi, interested in breaking the silence.

“Mutual interest,” was his short reply.

“In the woman you’re both trying to find.”

“Yes.”

The silence lingered a little longer. Yes, they were on Cerea to retrieve Ilaria’s friend, the one that was going to help them find the runaway boy that they were going to help look for. Tahnsu once again wondered what he was doing with these strange people, and when Ilaria would begin teaching him how to use the Force. He was saved from the painful silence by the reappearance of Ilaria with her friend in tow. Her friend was a togruta of short stature with light grey skin and white markings, and she wore a brown-red cloak with a hood tall enough to cover her montrals. She greeted them both warmly, and her durasteel-colored eyes shone with intelligence. She introduced herself as Ashla.

Tahnsu wondered if she was a Force-user as well.

Dondavi had kept his greetings curt. Ever since they had left Nal Hutta, he had been in a sour mood, and Ilaria talked to him with such a stiff annoyance that Tahnsu was thankful she didn’t turn it upon himself. He decided that of the two of them, he came off as the luckier one when it came to being on Ilaria’s bad side. She had tended to his wounds well and with experience, and now his thick bandage had been replaced with a lighter one and she had guessed that within the next rotation, he wouldn’t need a bandage at all.

“Did you find anything concerning the boy’s whereabouts?” Dondavi inquired.

Yes,” said Ilaria. “He managed to get a ride to Christophsis.”

“Why there?”

“Why does a child do anything?” Ilaria made her way for the cockpit, and Ashla followed. The former motioned for Tahnsu to join them, and gave Dondavi a side-eye that said without words, _stay here_.

Giving the old man a shrug as he passed, Tahnsu followed the women into the cockpit. They must have worked together before, because Ilaria fell into the pilot’s chair while Ashla simultaneously fell into the copilots. Tahnsu sat in the navigator’s, which rested between and behind their two. Without speaking, the two women lifted the ship from Asphodar 2, into space, and then into the swirling tunnel of hyperspace. It reminded Tahnsu of the way sunlight fell through water.

“How are you feeling?” Ilaria asked, leaning back in her chair. She did not look at him as she spoke, and yet Tahnsu distinctly knew that he was speaking to her.

“Fine,” he said, and meant it. Sure, his head throbbed slightly, but that could be ignored. Pain was pain. He wanted to say more, but was unsure of how much to say in front of Ashla, and figure that Ilaria may have been testing him. So, he kept his mouth shut.

“Good,” said Ilaria after giving him ample opportunity to elaborate. “Have you ever been to Christophsis?”

“No,” he admitted.

“Do you know much about the planet?”

“No.”

“It has a sun, and a moon,” she said. “But, more importantly, one of its major exports is kyber crystals. Do you know what kyber crystals are?”

Tahnsu struggled to remember. The name was familiar, although he couldn’t quite place it. However, his silence must have gone on too long.

“They’re the most common type of crystal to power lightsabers,” she said. She unclipped hers from her belt, and quickly disassembled the hilt, exposing a glittering light blue crystal within. “That,” she said, “Is a kyber crystal. Although, the place never quite recovered from the Clone Wars. For some reason, the Empire isn’t much into rebuilding war-ravaged planets as much as it is into conquering those it does not already possess.”

Tahnsu realized that his education was beginning, and it was not what he had expected. “That’s not much different than many places in the Outer Rim.”

“Quite right,” she said with a nod. “What do you think are the implications of that?”

“What?”

“What do you think of the implications of Christophsis’ recent history?”

“I don’t understand.”

She sighed. “Go back to Kayfour, and ask him to retrieve a recent history of Christophsis and download it on a datapad for you. Then, I would like for you to read what it tells you, and then try to answer my question once more.”

Tahnsu was used to taking orders, and so he promptly did as Ilaria asked, going outside to request the files from the protocol droid. However, Kayfour refused to acknowledge Tahnsu until he said that Ilaria had asked for him to turn over the files, and at that point the droid readily agreed.

Once he had a datapad loaded with information on Christophsis in hand, Tahnsu headed back to his newly acquired bunk room and laid down. He began scrolling through the files, and realized that they told history in a way he had not previously heard before. He read about the planet’s kyber crystals, it’s tall blue-paned cities, the Jedi Knights Anakin Skywalker and Obi-wan Kenobi who first helped liberate it from the Separatists forces during the Clone Wars, with the aid of their clone battalions and the Skywalker’s padawan, the young Ahsoka Tano. He read of how despite the Republic’s efforts, the Separatists still maintained a hold on the planet and how after the Clone Wars had ended, the Empire had kept a close and prominent hold on the planet, mining its kyber crystals with zeal. That factoid was underlined in the data file.

Tahnsu realized it was the first history he had read that was impartial to the Empire, and as a matter of fact, to the Jedi. When he reached the end of the file, he noticed that it was notated:

INFORMATION GATHERED BY SWAMP RAT, VIA INVESTIGATION AND WITH THE AID OF FULCRUM’S MEMORIES. ADJUSTED FOR BIAS.


	8. Chapter 8

“I think you will make a good teacher,” Ahsoka said, leaning back and watching the hyperspace tunnel before them.

“Really?” asked Ilaria, giving her a sideways glance. “I hope I do.”

“Yeah, you’re scary enough so he won’t try disobeying orders too much.”

Ilaria laughed. “Good. I hope so.”

Cheap, who was connected to one of the ship’s computer ports behind them, beeped an affirmative, which caused them both to chuckle.

“How are you feeling?” Ilaria asked.

“About going back to Christophsis?”

“Yeah.”

Ahsoka shrugged. She wasn’t overly enthused to go back to the planet, and in a weird, paradoxical way, she very much wanted to stay far away from its crystalline cities, and she very much wanted to go walk among them. Christophsis was the defining moment of not only her childhood, but her life. The moment she had stepped off of that transport and declared herself to be Anakin Skywalker’s padawan was the moment her life struck upon its destined path. She wondered if she would have survived Order 66 if she had been anyone else’s padawan.

Probably not.

Ilaria shifted her weight. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Even after three years, Ahsoka still sometimes marveled at the fact that she could just talk to Ilaria about anything: the past, her feelings, the present. She could unreservedly talk about anything she wanted, which she had never had in her life before. She didn’t have to be mindful of attachments when she spoke, nor hide any secrets, and the result was freeing. And, she also realized that didn’t have anyone else she could speak to so. The closest person was perhaps Bail, and even so, that was a bit of a leap.

“I don’t know if there’s much to talk about,” she said.

“There’s always something to talk about,” said Ilaria. “But I understand if you don’t want to.”

“What do you have in mind, then?”

“Many things,” said Ilaria with a teasing smile. “Nothing in particular at the moment. Well, maybe one thing. I’m already planning our next mini vacation.”

“We don’t have an anniversary for another year.”

“Really? I would have never thought that was how _anniversaries_ worked. Last time I checked, we don’t have to have an anniversary to spend some time together away from the drabble of everyone else.”

For someone who’s job it was to interact and form connections with people, Ilaria always seemed to be on the edge of being aggravated by their general existence and antics. Ahsoka supposed that was a byproduct of spending most of her time around not-so-pleasant people, even if she were dressed in nice gowns and visiting luxurious homes. Ahsoka also figured Ilaria was keeping the subject matter light because not only were they growing closer to Christophsis by the minute, they were also growing closer to being forced to deal with the reality that her mother’s last known location was on Coruscant.

“Where are you thinking?”

“I heard Pantora was pretty neat. I’ve never been there, but apparently their architecture is very artistic. We can go urban this time. A nice contrast to Sayssorsa.”

Ahsoka found herself immediately thinking of her old friend, Senator Riyo Chuchi. She had not spoken to her since before her trial for the bombing of the Jedi Temple. As far as she knew Chuchi was still the senatorial representative for Pantora in the Senate, not that they were anything more than an insect under the boot of the Empire. Ahsoka also realized that she had never actually been to Pantora.

“Pantora sounds nice.”

“I thought so.” Ilaria checked some numbers on the console. “We’ll be dropping out of hyperspace soon. Why don’t you pick a disguise for us?”

Ahsoka reached for the box of falsified transponder cards that Ilaria had managed to acquire over the years, rifling through them until she found one that was suitable. “How about Captain Guao, transporting service droids for resale on the _Better Days_.”

“A little on the nose, but it works.”

“You’re the one who made the card.”

Ilaria accepted it and inserted the card into a slot on the console. “No, I think I actually won that one in a bet.” One of the lights on the screen flipped to green, and a mini transponder display identified the _Hangover_ to actually be the _Better Days_.

“Where were you betting false transponder codes?”

“Kriff, I can’t remember. Somewhere along Smuggler’s Run, I suppose.”

“You haven’t been there in a while.”

“A couple of months, give or take.”

They went on in silence for a while, and Ahsoka once again thought of the problem of Coruscant. “What are you planning to do about Coruscant?”

Ilaria let out a huff through her nostrils. “Stars know. Right now, let’s just find Adan and reunite him with his family. Where are they, again?”

“Maldra IV.” It was designated as one of the few Rebel Alliance safe worlds located in the Outer Rim, primarily a base camp for refugees from the Empire.

Iacus was one of the most beautiful cities Ilaria had ever seen, which was saying something, considering that she had been to Naboo. The buildings were made of shining greenish blue stained glass, or was it crystal? And the city was built around a glittering blue lake that was only a few shades darker than the surroundings buildings and overarching bridges. The entire place glittered iridescently in the sunlight.

They were cleared to land in one of the cities hangars, in which they sat while Ilaria fished around for a cloak that would fit over Tahnsu’s head to hide his bandages. However, the only ones she had that could have possibly been large enough were some of Ahsoka’s, and they were much too short for him. When he tried one on, it comically hung around his knees. So, instead, she carefully wrapped a dark scarf around his head, successfully covering the bandage.

“We’re looking for a Captain Borhne and crew,” she said to him and Dondavi as she finished tucking the scarf. She had to stand on one of the booths to reach Tahnsu’s head properly while he was standing up. “They were the ones that transported the boy, Adan, from Cerea.”

“Do you think he will still be with them?” asked Dondavi.

“Possibly,” said Ilaria. Hopping down from the booth and pulling her own scarf over her face. She made a mental note to stop at one of the shops and purchase a cloak large enough for Tahnsu. And well, anything else he should need. Perhaps it would be better if she just gave him some credits and let him do his own shopping. She doubted he would take them and run. “Although, if the boy is smart, he may realize that someone could have tracked him through the ship, and he’s already headed elsewhere.”

“And we will follow him.”

“Yes.”

“Very well.” From the way Dondavi said it, you would have thought that Ilaria had just informed him she was going to make him go bald by plucking one hair from his scalp at a time. She exchanged a minuet glance with Ahsoka, and raised an eyebrow slightly.

Tahnsu wisely, didn’t say a word.

“We should split up,” said Ilaria. She reached within the folds of her cloak and produced a pouch. She counted out the credits and handed them to Tahnsu. “That way, we will be more inconspicuous. Ashla, Cheap, and I will scout the hangars and see if we can find Captain Borhne. You two can go ahead for the shopping district, and perhaps while you’re there, you can get yourself a cloak that fits and anything else you may require, within reason. Just keep your comms open.”

Tahnsu accepted the credits delicately, as if he couldn’t quite believe she was just handing him credits without having to work for them. “Okay, will do, Captain.”

Ilaria laughed. “You don’t have to call me Captain. If nothing turns up at the hangars, we will meet you two at the shops. Sounds good?”

The two men nodded, and Kayfour stepped forward. “Am I to stay here?”

“Yes,” she answered. “The usual drill.”

The usual drill meant that Kayfour was to monitor transmissions, answer calls and take messages if needed, as well as alert her if there was any suspicious activity concerning the ship.

Kayfour gave her a stiff nod and shuffled back towards the office, where most of the monitoring screens and long-range comm units were. Ilaria often thought that the droid would be content to never leave the office, if given the option. Cheap, on the other hand, was already lowering the ramp, and Ilaria smiled at the droid. Astromechs, in her opinion, always seemed to have a sense of adventure to them, and she often thought it was endearing. The R2 unit, originally kept as a reminder to herself, let out a short relay of beeps, his black-and-metal dome head rotating to take her in with his optical processors.

“We’re coming,” she assured him, throwing one last look at Ahsoka, who of course, looked like a complete stranger with her grey skin, and descended the ramp. She couldn’t remember the last time she and Ahsoka had run a mission together, and as they strode in front of Tahnsu and Dondavi, despite the plethora of problems that seemed to arise with each rotation, she thought that perhaps that something within the galaxy had rightened itself.


End file.
